Our bedtime story had morphed into a seemingly never-ending mix of inspiration from our lives and silly childish gibberish.
I couldn’t have been happier.
Birthday Presents
IN A NORMAL YEAR, I wouldn’t make a huge fuss about my birthday. The year before was an exception because I turned thirty and Mark wanted to give me lots and lots of presents—he basically kept giving me things all year under the guise of it being for my birthday.
That’s how he got me to Coachella.
Yes, I’m one of those bros. There are a couple photos that circulated online from that year’s festival that show me chilling with Mark. (I couldn’t get out of the way of every camera.) If you’re an internet sleuth, you can probably find those photos—though to be honest, the most visible one of me is mostly of my shoulder photobombing a popular Instagram influencer. I don’t think they called themselves that back then, but Mark was pretty excited about that photo and said we should finally start an account for me. Apparently all his ‘famous’ friends were going to take pictures with me, then I’d be just as famous as them! What a treat! Life Goal achieved!
That was the year we had a true conversation about privacy and what I would allow to be posted on his Snapchat feed (he already knew Instagram was for modeling nonsense only). I tolerated him posting a video of me waking up from a nap and being cute, then grumpy. It pissed me off that he posted it without my consent and that I had to find out from one of his internet friends.
Apparently Mark and I were ‘hella cute together’.
I didn’t know anything about cuteness, but I was hella mad.
Mark hasn’t posted a single video of me online since then. I guess I wouldn’t know if he was secretly posting on Snapchat and I’m pretty sure he has an anonymous tumblr for porn, but in general, my identity hasn’t been attached to any photos on the internet. We have the same policy with Alex.
None of his Instagram followers would be able to guess that Mark is actually a father. He does wear a ring and no matter how much I complain about it, he refuses to take it off for his internet photos. He doesn’t comment on his relationship status. He’s very respectful of my limits.
But I guess he doesn’t respect me when it comes to surprise parties because he overrode my ultimatum about having a small gathering for my thirtieth birthday. Instead, he went all out. Mark hired a photographer for that party and commanded that no one use their phones while they celebrated with me. Any visible phones were to be immediately confiscated.
It worked. Aside from a few people who got tattled on and shamed into putting their phones in their cars, no one disobeyed Mark’s rule and none of the pictures from that party made their way online.
They exist only on our harddrive, in a photo album, and in our memories. I was pissed that he surprised me with a party, but impressed that he made it my kind of party.
Mark was tempted to do the same thing for my thirty-first, I could see it in his eyes. He was up to something and sneaking around behind my back.
“No parties this year,” I demanded one day, trying not to sound pathetic.
“I know.”
“That’s what you said last year. And you got me a fancy trip to the Bahamas and you took me to Coachella. I don’t want anything this year. I don’t need anything.”
“I know.”
Mark refused to make eye contact during the confrontation, which was a sure sign that he was feeling guilty about something. I was determined to get to the bottom of it before his big reveal, whatever that would be. So I cornered the weakest link—Suhail.
“What are they doing for my birthday?” I asked at work the next day while both of us were on break.
“I don’t know,” Suhail lied. “What’s Mark’s plan this year?”
“Don’t give me that. I know you know.”
“You know my reputation,” Suhail said. “The minute anyone says ‘you have to keep this secret’ is when I tell them they better not tell me. Whatever your surprise is, it’ll be just as surprising to me.”
“Snitch...”
“Jester...”
“Don’t be like this. I know you know.”
“I’m telling you... everyone knows not to share any secrets with me.”
“Did Mark try to let you in on the secret?”
He hesitated. Those guilty brown eyes looked down and to the side like he was scrambling for the proper response.
“I knew it. Tell me what it is.”
“I don’t know!” He started laughing like a guilty man. “If I knew, then you could get it out of me, but I don’t know!”
“Liar,” I accused. “Come on, Snitch. I hate surprises. You know that. This is driving me crazy.”
“You liked it last year,” he said defensively.
I didn’t talk to him again for three days. I could have held my grudge longer (as in, indefinitely), but by then I’d learned the big secret. It was my mom who gave it away.
My mother had taken to babysitting on Tuesday and Thursday. Every once in a while she would watch Amber and Ryan’s twins, too, but only if she was taking Alex to the zoo or a park and she wanted him to have friends. It was after one of these busy three-kid afternoons where I picked Alex up from her house and buckled him in the backseat.
“I can’t wait for the party,” she commented. “Alex is getting along with the boys so much better now. You should be proud.”
“He likes the girls, too.” We had taken him on a few playdates over to Tim and Stacy’s so that Alex could get comfortable around their kids as well.
“Yes! It’s going to be so much fun!”
That set off the alarms in my head. What is going to be so much fun? I squinted at her. “Right,” I said suspiciously. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
She covered her mouth. “That’s right. It’s all a surprise! Me and my big mouth. Haha.”
That pissed me off. I suspect she let that slip intentionally just to rile me up. She blew Alex kisses and gloated in her superior knowledge of what was to take place on my birthday. But she had ‘accidentally’ given me enough hints to piece it together.
Something with the kids.
Something Alex was going to be a part of.
Something Alex should enjoy.
So it couldn’t be all that bad.
I SEDUCED MARK LATER that night. We didn’t have sex because Alex was sleeping just across the hall and I still hadn’t gotten used to having a kid in our apartment while attempting sexytimes with my partner. It just didn’t feel right.
That night, I may have pretended I was horny and ready for action. I know it’s bad to be a tease, but I wanted to know the surprise! Like... all the details, not just a general outline.
So after I read Alex a chapter from Harry Potter and we talked it over, I enacted my plan. Mark went back to tuck Alex in and I purposefully got a couple condoms from the bedroom along with some lube and set them conspicuously on the side table in the TV room.
What happened next is still hotly debated between the two of us. You’re going to see my side of the story. Did I lead him on? I really don’t think so. All I did was set out the sex stuff and sit on the couch. He’s the one who saw them and immediately started making out with me and touching me sensuously. I mirrored his ministrations—sue me.
“We’ve gotta wait for him to fall asleep,” Mark whispered.
“Let’s just kiss some more.”
“Otay,” he whispered, like how Alex said it.
I smiled while kissing him. My eyes were closed and my body simply responded to the pressure of his hands and the exploration of his tongue. He didn’t even try to get my shirt off.
“Why don’t we move to the bedroom?” he suggested. “It’s too risky to do it out here. Fuck, you do get excited by the risky shit, don’t you?”
I pushed him onto the couch, then straddled his hips and kissed up and down his neck. His cock was pressing up through his plaid lounge pants so I sank onto it with my ass.
“I want something from you,” I whispered with husky desire.
“I want something from you, too.” He sounded so much like a smarmy, horny dunce.
“Nooo,” I whispered, drawing it out like I couldn’t hold back any longer. We kissed deeply, then I ended it by slowly pulling away until he stopped going after me with his mouth. I put my mouth near his ear and hopped on his hard rod again. “I mean...” I ground into his crotch. “I want something from you... first.”
You see, this is the central tenet of Mark’s argument that I can be a huge tease. If I hadn’t said the word ‘first’, then his logic would’ve crumbled into the dustbin of history. Buuuuuuuuuut... I freely admit to using ‘first’, which implied that if he did something for me ‘first’, then I would do the promised thing after.
That’s definitely not what I meant and in hindsight, I wouldn’t have used that word even though Mark still wouldn’t have comprehended that I wanted something other than his cock that night. He jumps to conclusions like you wouldn’t believe.
We’ve had playful arguments about my teasing nature ever since. It’s probably the first time I ever withheld sex in order to get something from my husband. I have a principled stance on this sort of thing because it’s really unfair to him. I could do without sex (literally) forever, which means I could probably use that as leverage almost any time I wanted.
But that’s evil.
That’s what a tease would do.
That is, technically, what I unintentionally did that night. The next morning I felt so horrible about it that I woke Mark up by giving him a blowjob. (He almost never gets a blowjob from me.)
“What can I do for my prince?” Mark murmured as I kissed his jawline and gently humped his legs.
“Tell me your secret,” I whispered.
He laughed. “I don’t hide anything from you. Is this a roleplay thing?”
“No,” I insisted. “You’re hiding something from me.” I ground my ass into his crotch. “Tell me.”
“I don’t have—” The light bulb went off in his mind and his tone changed immediately. “Oh... you mean that. That’s a surprise.”
I began feverishly kissing him and touching him and I may have even let my hand slip under his lounge pants and stroke his hardness so he knew I meant business (though I didn’t make any other verbal offers).
“You don’t play fair,” he complained.
“You knew that when you married me.” I dove for his mouth and we kissed frantically. We weren’t technically married yet. Gay marriage had become legal in Illinois a few weeks earlier and with all the drama surrounding Alex, Mark and I hadn’t really discussed the milestone. Our civil union was enough for me.
“You aren’t having a surprise wedding, are you? You’d tell me if you were, right?”
He sighed. “How could you even think that?”
“That’s not a denial!”
“I’m flatly denying that your birthday surprise is a shotgun wedding.”
“You do know that I’d let you handle all the details,” I prodded.
“Just because you say so... and you say so convincingly... something tells me you’d actually be something of a bridezilla.”
I slapped him playfully and frowned. “Somebody’s in the doghouse tonight.” I rolled off his legs.
“No, no, no, no, no,” he said between chuckles. “I’ll make it up to you.” He proceeded to make vigorous love to my body without removing a shred of clothing. He kissed up and down my shirt, touching me lightly so that it almost tickled. It was my favorite kind of foreplay.
“Tell me what you have planned.”
“It’s a sur-prise.”
“Then I’ve got a sur-prise for you to-night.” My lips were in a firm line and I arched a single eyebrow in a commanding way that usually indicated I wasn’t playing around. Mark would later claim that this was the second time in an hour that I held sex over his head and coerced him into giving away the birthday secret.
I can see how he might have gotten that impression, but it was not my intention. Again, if I had corrupt intent then it would have been an act of evil.
And I don’t use my powers for evil.
Much.
“Don’t be this way,” he begged. “Just let me surprise you. I know you’ll like it.”
“What does it have to do with Alex?”
He covered his surprise, but that initial half-second gave the game away.
“What does it have to do with Alex?” I demanded.
“Cool it.” He laughed off my bullishness. “You’re way off base.”
“You’re a shit liar.”
“Language,” he chided. “Told you Alex picked it up from you.”
“I don’t cuss in front of him.”
“Right.”
“I would never do that!” I mean... I’ve stopped doing that, so don’t pick on me about it.
“The good news is he hasn’t cussed since dropping the f-bomb. So we’re in the clear so far.”
“I still can’t believe he did that. He really put you in your place.”
Mark glared at me.
I’m not remembering how funny it was... or how your face was so hilarious. Or how kinda proud of the kid I was for really sticking it to my nagging partner.
“Quit glaring at me,” I ordered.
“Quit smiling.”
“I’m allowed to smile.”
“Not about that memory. It’s bad enough that you boss me around. The kid picked up some of your bad habits.”
“I thought you liked it when I got bossy?” I pushed him back onto the couch and went in for more kisses.
“I lied.”
I tweaked his nipple and slowly punished him for being so naughty. He liked when I was in control! Or maybe I just had to make him like it.
“Tell me the surprise,” I whispered.
“Dammit, Chris. Let it go. You’re gonna enjoy it.”
“I know it has something to do with Alex. You know I don’t like surprises.”
“You can stay in suspense for a week.” He took off my shirt and kissed between my pecs, so I gave him a little motorboat. “Are we gonna move this to the bedroom, or do you really wanna risk it out here?”
“Who said anything about having sex?”
He was absolutely dumbfounded.
“I just thought we might... if you gave up your secret.”
“Dammit, you drive a hard bargain. Guess we aren’t having sex.”
“Guess not.” I rolled off him again and cuddled against his side so we could watch TV.
“Really?” he asked. “You’re really doing this to me?”
“Doing what?”
“I’ll get you back for this,” he promised.
“Whatever you say.” I gave him a chaste kiss.
“Fine. We’re having a surprise party at Tim and Stacy’s house.”
“Lies.”
“It’s true!” His voice went up like he was innocent, but knew he sounded guilty.
“Why would you have a party for me there?”
“It’s not really for you.”
That shut me up for a minute because my mind was tied in a knot. He was making absolutely no sense.
“There. Mister Smartypants. Are you happy now? You would have been bubbly with excitement if you just waited a few more days.”
“What are you talking about? Why are you having my party at their house?”
“Didn’t you piece it together yet?”
I glared at him.
“With Alex... and a surprise... and you’ll be happy.”
“I’m never happy with surprises.”
“OMG. We’re having a surprise party for Alex on your birthday. Do I have to spell it out for you!”
Apparently, for once in my life, he did. “But...” I sputtered. “But that doesn’t make any sense!”
“We don’t know when his birthday is. So we’re all getting him presents for his bedroom and so... I dunno... so we can celebrate with him.”
“But why on my birthday?”
“Because yours is first. Plus, once I thought of it, I kind of knew you would be pleased to share your party with the kid.”
His tone had me thinking there was a lie in there somewhere. “And you came up with this idea all on your own... did ya?”
“Fine! It was Suhail’s idea! Get on his case about it! Jeez!” Mark crossed his arms like a grumpy little baby.
“Fucking Suhail,” I muttered. “He really had me fooled.”
“Can you just pretend to be surprised at your party?”
“I’ll do my best.” Something was still off. Could it really have been Suhail’s idea? Was Mark lying? Was there another trick up his sleeve? Was he telling me a little truth to disguise a bigger surprise?
I remained suspicious for the remainder of the week. My mother gave no further hints. Alex didn’t know a thing (not that I inquired!). Mark was satisfied with my calmer demeanor.
It was all an act. On the inside, I was fighting against the paranoia. My friends had unleashed a mystery and I was piecing together scraps of information like you wouldn’t believe! I saw secrets hidden behind every conversation. I watched Suhail with an especially clinical detachment and, to my eyes, he looked guilty as hell.
My mind is very good at accurately jumping to conclusions with only a few data points. I can visualize patterns. It’s both a gift and a curse because there is a fine, fine, fine line between seeing a pattern and confabulating. I’m convinced that one of the only reasons I can type this long narrative and keep all my ‘data points’ in order is because of my super pattern recognizer. Without this gift, you wouldn’t be reading this book.
But... I’ve also been known to chase ideas down rabbit holes. Sometimes I can sound so convincing that others will follow....
I wonder if this is madness. The human brain is wired to automate as many processes as possible. We’re all built to make quick conclusions from limited stimuli. If humans weren’t able to make accurate, quick estimations, we would’ve been eaten by the sabertooth tigers and never dominated the earth.
The Foster Dad Page 16
